


Music

by Marksfabulousbutt



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: F/M, M/M, To save, ass, i cant write first, my, this is shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 05:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16570517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marksfabulousbutt/pseuds/Marksfabulousbutt
Summary: The eyes are always there.





	Music

**Author's Note:**

> I am saying this right now. it up TO YOU who is the character in the story. I have never really written in first person and I really didn't intend for it to be first person. It was the first thing I had wrote down.

**In case you didn't read the note; it is up _TO YOU_ who is the character in the story.**

-

 I feel his eyes on me. They are always on me. No matter where I go it's always there. The searchers and lost ones steer clear of me. Everybody does. It's lonely here. Just me, myself, and the eyes. I talk to it sometimes. It doesn't respond, just continues to fill the silence. Nothing more. It's unnerving sometimes, but a lot of it is because the voices have stopped. Stopped banging around in my head. I miss them. They kept me company in the silence.  
  
I came across a record player, intact and functional. I took it to my hideout. I'm almost tempted to go find records stored down here. I know where they are. But I'm afraid he'll get mad. I spoke out loud to fill the silence, but I was never once bother. It came to a surprise when I heard a response. "What will you play?" It's broken, and gurgly as if someone tried to speak with water in their mouth.  
  
I turned towards him. He's hunched over me, ink dripping from the ceiling and from himself. He always does it to a room, and how come I hadn't noticed it? "I uh... don't know... Something to fill the void?" He doesn't move. A statue, again? I sigh, and keep the record player there, to be unused forever. Or until something happens and we die. But how would we die. We'd turn back to puddles, shoved back into the great lake of it. We could never be reformed. Once a drop of water into an ocean it's gone.  
  
We'd have to mold ourselves back together. How ever long that takes. I don't like it. I go back to cleaning up the place, having found the empty room a good place. It wasn't overly big, but it was good. For me. I don't know why I chose to move from the other room. It felt safer here I guess. "I'll go find some." I pause, but Bendy's already gone, disappearing into the wall.  
  
I swallow, the room silenced once more without the sloshing of ink.  
  
-  
  
The touch of ink dripping above startles me, and I turn to look at the monster feets in front of me. In his gloved hands he holds a few records with care, and hands them to you. I shakily pull them from his fingers, eyes widening that they are some of actual songs, wrapped carefully in the hard paper. One of them is Helen Kane's most popular song. I Wanna Be Loved You. It's a surprise to me, that it was down wherever he found it.  
  
"Really?" I ask softly and he shakes his head yes, ink dripping down faster, and you pull the record out to put on the turntable. I look at him before turning it on. The intro plays, and her voice comes, beautiful and clear. It takes me back to a far away time, something from the past. Henry is there, his smile bright on his face.  
  
My back feels suddenly wet, and I look up, finding that Bendy had sat behind me, and resting himself against my body "I miss him too." I sigh.


End file.
